


break me down(build me up)

by loonyBibliophile



Series: i may be bad (but i'm perfectly good at it) [1]
Category: Riverdale (TV 2017)
Genre: Dom Jughead Jones, Dom/sub, Established Relationship, F/M, Impact Play, Kinky Fucks Discord, Restraints, Sensation Play, Wax Play, jughead and also the author have an Aftercare Kink, this is filthy kinky smut okay, this is like heavy into the D/s dynamic like Be Aware
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-27
Updated: 2018-06-27
Packaged: 2019-05-29 07:55:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,225
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15068645
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/loonyBibliophile/pseuds/loonyBibliophile
Summary: When college stress gets to be too much, Betty needs Jughead to help her lose control(Dom!Jug, Sub!Betty, very kinky and smutty. Technically a prequel to 'it's not what it looks like!' but will make sense regardless)





	break me down(build me up)

It’s finals season, and Betty feels like a rubber band, stretched to its limits, ready to snap. It’s gotten to the point where she feels like her essay is mocking her, the placeholder for the end of a line of text blinking at her passive aggressively. Before she can get to the point where she wants to fall onto old habits, sink her nails into her palms, she leaves her bedroom and goes to knock on Jughead’s door. 

Keeping separate bedrooms in their shared apartment had been a mutual decision. They usually slept in one room or the other, but with all their assorted emotional problems, they decided it was safest that they each have their own space, should they need it. Plus, it was much easier to buckle down and work when the other wasn’t sitting in the same space as them, being distracting. But right now, whatever Jughead was working on would have to wait. Right now, she needed him. He swings open his door and takes her in, and she swears he can read what she needs in her tight posture, because when he speaks it’s with that low voice that gives her shivers. 

“You need something, baby?” he asked, leaning over and tugging gently on the edge of her ponytail. 

“I need to let go.” she mumbled, stepping closer to him. 

“Speak up, Betty.” Jughead said, pressing a finger to the bottom of her chin and forcing her to look up at him. 

“I need to let go.” she says again, clearer this time. Jughead smirks at her, his eyes have that smug look he gets that she just loves. It makes her knees weak, and it makes her skin feel warm. 

“I can do that for you.” he says warmly. He puts his hand, long fingers and wide palms, on the back of Betty’s neck, just barely gripping it, and leads her back into her room. “What do you want me to do to you, Betty?” he asks, leaning in, his breath hot on the shell of her ear as his lips barely ghost against her skin. Betty shivers. 

“I need you to tell me.” she answers, leaning back against him, seeking the solid heat of his body to anchor her. 

“Get on the bed, baby. On your back. Arms above your head.” 

As Jughead walks away, he trails his hand through her hair, down her neck and back, over her ass, and just barely slips his hand between her thighs. His touch is featherlight, and leaves Betty burning. She does what he says, laying herself out on her sheets and tucking her hands up above her hair while Jughead takes his sweet time digging through a trunk at the foot of Betty’s bed. He looks at her, eyes roaming up and down over her body. 

“Are you attached to the clothes you’re wearing?” he asks, looking over her plain cotton undies and the baggy tank top she’s wearing. 

“No.” Betty answers quickly. Jughead smiles. He liked that answer. Betty glows. 

“Good.” Jughead says, and pulls out a set of bandage scissors, putting them on the foot of the bed. He stares at her more, tapping his chin and pretending to think. He loves making her wait. He leans down again, and pulls out a set of leather restraints. They’re top quality, line with sherpa fabric and made of buttery deep green leather. Each cuff has a gold crown embossed on it. They had been a present from Veronica. After he sets those on the bed too, he leans down and pulls out a box of candles. One by one, he pulls each color out, looks at it, and looks back at Betty. Finally, he decides on a pink candle. 

“Just like your nipples, and that pretty pussy I know is already dripping wet for me.” he said, with a smile that was borderline feral. He set the candle and a lighter on the bed, and stalks his way up to Betty, restraints in hand. Before he even has to ask, she extends her wrists. He runs a finger around the length of each one, barely touching her skin, before wrapping the cuffs around them, and then clipping a length of chain between them. Betty lets her arms go limp, and Jughead pulls the chain back, hanging it from a fixture in Betty’s headboard, leaving her hands stretched above her. Leaning down, he puts his lips on hers, like he’s going to kiss her, but instead he just whispers. 

“Stay still for me, baby. I’ll be right back.”

And then he’s gone. Betty does as he says, but the urge to turn and look at the door, watch for him, is tantalizing. He hasn’t bound her ankles yet, and she wants to squirm. But she doesn’t. She wants to be good. She hears his footsteps returning, and then he’s looming over her, a plastic cup in his hand. Her heartbeat picks up. She knows what’s in that cup. He puts it on the nightstand, and walks down to the trunk once more, coming up with a silk blindfold. 

“What are your words, Betts?” he asks softly as he leans down, lifting her head and carefully tying the blindfold so it doesn’t catch in her hair. 

“Red, yellow, and green.” Betty answers. 

“Good girl.” he says, and Betty feels her toes curl. 

For a few moments that feel like they stretch into endless hours, Jughead does not move, or speak, or touch her. Betty fights the urge to squirm, and she’s so focused on not moving that when Jughead’s hand brushes over her ankle she practically jumps out of her skin. His touch is followed by another leather cuff, and then he tugs her leg outward, attaching the cuff to one bed post. He repeats the process on the other ankle, and as he tests the restraints, she can feel his breath on her thighs. For another few moments, there is nothing. Then the cool, smooth metal of the bandage scissors slide up Betty’s thigh. The sensation makes her gasp, and even though she can’t see him, she can perfectly picture the smug look on Jughead’s face. The cold metal slips beneath the cotton fabric of her panties, and the slow sound of the scissors cutting the fabric away from her skin makes Betty strain at her restraints. Jughead tuts, putting his hand on her center and pushing her hips down into the mattress. It’s a warning. Then the scissors are sliding up her other leg, under the other side of her panties, and then the thin, damp fabric is falling away and Betty can feel the air against her wet heat. 

“Mm, is this for me?” Jughead asks, smirk obvious in his voice. 

“Yes, Jug. All for you.” Betty says, nodding and breathless. 

The bandage scissors slide up Betty’s hip now, catching the edge of the tanktop. It slowly falls open, revealing stomach and ribs and finally Betty’s breasts, her nipples already pulled to rosy peaks. 

“There’s that shade of pink I love so much.” Jughead whispered, dragging a single finger through her folds and then around each of her nipples, slow and torturous. “Let’s see if we can make you even pinker.” 

Betty hears the flick of the lighter, and the hiss of the candle wick. There’s silence for a few more moments. and Betty knows exactly what’s happening. Jughead is waiting for the wax to start to melt, and then eve though it’s the same candle set they use every time, he’ll let a few drops fall onto the underside of his forearm, just to be sure the wax isn’t to hot. The care he takes with her is just as sexy to Betty as they way he takes her apart. 

The first drops of wax come without warning, a bright heat on the soft skin between her breasts. The heat moves down her ribs and the skin of her stomach, pooling in her belly button. There’s a tell tale rattle, and then the heat is replaced with an ice cube trailing from just above Betty’s mound to her pulse point in her neck. She moans, and Jughead chuckles. The ice trails down against, across her chest, then down and around her left nipple. It starts to melt, the icy water dripping down the slope of her breast and onto her ribs. Jughead rubs the ice in a spiral, starting at Betty’s nipple and working outward. Suddenly, the cold is gone, and the heat returns, hot wax falling onto Betty’s cold-sensitive flesh. She gasps and squirms, pushing her torso as close to Jughead as she can get in her restraints, and once again she feels him push her hips down into the mattress, this time followed by a gentle swat to each of her nipples. Another warning. Betty whines, and Jughead drips hot wax directly onto her nipples, leaving a trail from one to the other. He leaves her bereft of sensation for several seconds, and then the ice is sliding along her inner thigh. As it leaves a trail of cold between the heat of her core and the bend of her hips, Betty squirms again, moving her hips. Immediately, she stills, realizing what she’s done. 

“That’s three baby.” Jughead says. He stands, and she hears him blow out the candle and drop the ice. Next, he undoes one ankle, then the other, and undoes the cuffs. He runs a hand up the whole of her body as he walks, pausing to swat her ass, and then he takes her hands down, leaving them cuffed together, and grabs her hips, his fingertips digging into her sensitive skin as he flips her onto her stomach. The scrape of the fabric and pressure of her body weight on her nipples makes Betty groan and squirm. She’s so oversensitive by the time Jughead finally touches her pussy she thinks she might start crying, and that’s exactly what she wants, what she needs. 

Jughead walks down to the trunk, and she listens to him rustling around, then she feels the cool leather of his favored switch running up her thigh, flicking between her legs, and then, without a warm up of any kind, come down on across her ass with a stinging crack. Betty groans, and her hips jerk. 

“Count, baby.” Jughead says, his voice a growl. 

“One.” Betty gasps out. 

The switch cracks down again, across the backs of her thighs this time. The sting makes Betty’s clit pulse painfully. 

“Two.” she cries. 

There’s a flurry of strikes next, all across her ass and thighs, and it’s all Betty has in her to cry out a number between each strike, sweating and shaking and trembling. Jughead’s hitting particularly hard today, which means he’s hitting to bruise, and Betty thinks about seeing the welts and bruises on her skin, feeling the burn and soreness when she sits down, and it’s almost more than she can take. There’s a pause, and the flat cool leather of a paddle runs across her ass, the only warning she gets before Jughead brings it down, full force, onto her ass. 

“Twelve.” Betty manages to rasp. The paddle smacks down again, and her skin is burning deliciously and her thighs are so slick she thinks she might lose her mind. “Thirteen.” And again, on her thighs this time, one said, then the other. When she croaks out twenty, her voice breaks with a sob. 

“Words, Betts.” Jughead says softly, laying a soothing hand on Betty’s thighs. 

“Green. Green Jug, so green.” Betty says, her words slurred with ecstatic tears. 

“I’m going to fuck you now, Betty.” Jughead whispers, suddenly close to her, his voice already back in that delicious low octave that makes Betty’s hair stand on end. 

“Oh god, please Juggie, I need you so much.” 

Her voice is raw with emotion and need, and Jughead runs a finger through her folds.

“So pretty and wet.” He murmurs, voice right in her ear. The heat of his breath as it tickles her ear sends shivers down her spine. She feels boneless as he takes the restraints from her wrists and the silk cloth from her eyes. “On your knees for a second, baby.” Betty scrambles to obey, scrunching her eyes against the light as she moves to kneel in the center of the bed. Off to the side, she watches from the corner of her eye as Jughead strips out of his clothes. He goes slow, knowing she’s watching and waiting, until finally he drops his boxers to the ground, and Betty thinks she might actually being drooling at the sight of his cock resting up against his stomach. He lowers himself to the bed, and Betty waits patiently for instruction. 

“Lay on your side, facing the window.” he says finally, his voice a low rumble. Betty shivers, because she knows what position he wants, and what it means. As gracefully as she can manage with how turned on she is, she lays down, stretching out for him like a cat. He growls appreciatively and slides behind her, slipping a hand around the column of her throat. His other hand reaches between her thighs, slipping inside of her while he starts to nibble on her neck. His teeth scrape her skin, and she knows he’s leaving marks, and she loves it. His cock is sliding through her folds, teasing her, while his hand keeps a bruising grip on her thigh and Betty is panting. 

“Please, Jug. Please.” she begs, her voice breaking. He answers by biting down on her neck, hard, and she knows it will leave teeth marks, knows it will hurt when she moves her neck, a delicious reminder of how much Jughead wants her, how much he loves her. 

“What was that, baby?” he asks, his voice gruff, his breath hot on her neck. 

“Please Jug, fuck me. God, please fuck me.” she cries again, louder. He tightens his grip on her throat, not enough to actually restrict her breathing, just enough to remind her that she’s his. 

“As you wish.” he mumbles, biting down on her shoulder and thrusting into her in one fluid motion. Betty gasps loudly, pushing her hips back into him. The curve of his cock drags against her g-spot, and her head lolls against his shoulder and chest. She’s completely lost in him. His rough, warm hand on her throat, and his other digging finger print bruises into the delicate skin of her inner thigh. His teeth and lips on her neck, sucking and nibbling and biting. The way her bruises and welted thighs rub against his legs and the sheets below them. The puckered wax on her nipples. The steady drag of his cock, sliding in and out of her, the way it bottoms out against her cervix, the way he pulls all the way out, so every time he thrusts back in, the head of his cock stretches her open. She’s in tears again as she drops a hand to her clit, and she doesn’t ask, because she knows she doesn’t need permission, not for this, not now. 

“Jug! Jughead!” she gasps, her voice cracking as she comes around him, and the pulsing of her warm folds around his cock sets him off too, and he growls into her neck, squeezing her throat and thigh as he ruts against her, filling her with his cum. 

“I love you, Betty.” he murmurs softly into her neck, releasing her throat and letting go of her thigh, and wrapping his arms around her waist instead. She doesn’t reply, not right away, so he just holds her, lets her lay limp against him. Her breathing is slow and steady, and she can feel the thrum of Jughead’s heart in her spine. 

“I love you too.” she says, a quiet whisper, a sigh. 

“Are you okay if I pull out?” he asks, running a hand through her hair, pulling her ponytail loose. She nods. He slips from between her thighs, and Betty lets herself go limp again, falling into the mattress. “You gotta get up and pee, baby. Do you need help standing up?” Betty nods again, and Jughead holds his arms out to her, and watches carefully as she sways towards the bathroom. Once she makes it safely, Jughead sets to work. He puts all their various toys away, and grabs a soft towel, a blanket, a bottle of aloe vera gel, the softest old tshirt in his laundry basket, and a pair of clean underwear. He sets it all on the bed and nightstand, then ducks into the bathroom to check on Betty. He presses a kiss to the top of her head, then gets a glass of water from the kitchen, as well as a few snacks. 

Betty walks out of the bathroom and sees Jughead standing by the bed, ready to take care of her, and her heart swells. He’s already pulled on a pair of boxers, and he sits down on the bed, patting his lap. Betty crawls into in gracefully, and shuts her eyes, leaning back against him. He runs his fingers through her hair, gently scratching her scalp and rubbing her neck, until she’s boneless and practically purring. 

“Lay down across my lap, babe.” he says quietly, and Betty drapes herself over his thighs. Carefully, he pulls all the hardened wax from her skin. Bit by bit it flakes away, and he never once scratches or pinches the delicate skin of her chest or stomach. When all the wax is gone, he rubs aloe into her skin until it’s no longer sticky. “Turn over, hon.” he rubs her stomach, and she flips over, exposing her marked up thighs. Carefully, he smooths aloe over the welts and bruises, particularly the ones lower down on her thighs. She sighs, sleepy and boneless as he looks after her, and Jughead smiles. Once her skin is no longer shiny and sticky, he slides the clean undies up her hips. Then, he hands her his shirt and she pulls it on gratefully. 

Jughead slides his legs apart, and Betty cuddles back against his chest, and he resumes running his fingers through her hair. 

“You okay, baby?” He asks, parting her hair into sections. 

“So much better than okay, Juggie. Thank you. I really needed that.” She sighs happily, and Jughead hands her a tissue from the nightstand so she can wipe the old tears and makeup from her face as he sets about putting her hair in a loose braid. As she cuddles into his chest once more, he hands her the glass of water, and she drinks gratefully. 

“So nothing was too hard or too sudden?” He rubs her shoulders. 

“Not at all. It was exactly what I needed.” she tilts her head back, pressing a quick kiss to his lips and then cuddling under his chin. “You’re exactly what I needed. You always are.”

“I love you.” Jughead says with a grin, kissing Betty’s hair. She stretches against him, smiles, sighs. 

“And I love you. Can we take a nap? And then go out to dinner?” She blinks up at him, eyes wide and relaxed, still pliable in his arms. He nods, smiling again, and pulls her close as they both sink down into the pillows.

**Author's Note:**

> listen. i'm sorry, but i'm also not at all. shrug emoji.


End file.
